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22nd May 2009

Peter Beard and I agree completely on sleep, even if I only rarely share his substitute

The first day of my visit to Hog Ranch, Beard finally ambles out of his tent in early afternoon to begin the day. He is clad only in his usual kikoi, a colorful sarong-like loincloth. His torso is sinewy and nut-brown, with not an ounce of extra flesh, and he looks surprisingly fresh for someone who stayed out until five a.m. Apparently, after I begged off at two a.m. to get some sleep, Beard stopped in at the Carnivore, a local hangout whose menu features zebra and ostrich and crocodile as well as a diverse array of Nairobi night crawlers. It isn’t until the Ethiopian girls begin to wander out of his tent that I realize he didn’t come home alone.

As more girls appear, I finally ask, “How many of them are there?”

Beard shrugs. “Four or five.”

“Did they all sleep in your bed?”

Beard nods, grinning.

“Wasn’t it crowded?”

“We were very cozy.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“It’s such a waste, sleep,” he says dismissively. “You’re just lying there.”

(via EDSBS)